


Kinktober 2017 Ficlets

by FlareWarrior



Series: Kinktober 2017 [3]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Biting, Chair Sex, Crack, Gun play, Hacking, Light Bondage, M/M, Masturbation, Modeling, Muscle Appreciation, Sex Toys, Size Difference, Torture, Voyeurism, Wax Play, acted non-con, dubcon?, violence is on other people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-08 17:51:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12259176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlareWarrior/pseuds/FlareWarrior
Summary: Short-ish fills for kinktober. Each chapter will fill a different kink.





	1. Harry/Eggsy Day 4: Biting, Muscles

"Are you ok?"

Harry tossed his head a bit to get his hair out of his eyes, looking very put-upon indeed. "I'm fine."

Eggsy was up against him in a second, shoving his gun clumsily into its holster and probing at the gash on the side of Harry's head. Harry tried to smile at him through a grimace. "Aside from that. They haven't been in since I woke up here."

 _Here_ was the grey cement dungeon of one Armenian chemical genius. One very dead Armenian chemical genius whose body was three floors up and probably still bleeding reflexively.

Harry'd gone dark on the mission and Eggsy might have flown a little off the handle. It was fine. Merlin let him go anyway, so it had to be fine or Merlin would have said no. Roxy, he knew, was going to buy him a drink and tell him they'd both flown off the handle.

Finding Harry strung up in a little barren room, his arms outstretched in manacles chained high on either wall and his head hung low, had been enough to stop his heart for a few beats.

But Harry did look fine, if irritated with his position and lightly concussed from his head wound. Eggsy circled around him anyway to make sure everything was in order, trailing his hands over the sleek muscles on his back as if he might be missing some mortal wound with his eyes. His chest didn't feel so tight when he ducked back under one of Harry's chained arms to look at him again.

Harry was smudged with dirt and dried blood; his hair was a wild and disheveled mess. He'd lost his glasses out in the city somewhere, and Eggsy was starting to feel his pulse pick up for reasons that had nothing to do with fear.

"What happened to your clothes?" Eggsy could have asked 'what happened to your shirt, shoes, and blazer,' since Harry was at least still wearing trousers, but that was a little much to ask when Harry Hart was shirtless and strung up in front of him.

"They were quite interested in what I had in my pockets, once they deduced the suit was bulletproof."

Now that he was assured of Harry's safety and his rush of terror was subsiding, it was a little hard not to stare. He realized he was staring and re-evaluated the difficulty level: it was impossible not to stare.

Harry was _built_ , had to be if he wanted to tank his way through missions with his fists, as was his habit. His muscles were for strength rather than show, not bulging out but undeniably present and powerful. Eggsy's gaze lingered on his defined chest, trailed down and drank in washboard abs.

Harry's biceps bunched as he tugged at the rusting cuffs on his wrists, and that was - good. "If you wouldn't mind." Harry said.

Eggsy pursed his lips, like he was thinking about it, then released them with a smack. "Maybe I would."

Eggsy stepped close again while Harry watched him. Harry was tall as fuck, he sometimes forgot. Eggsy wasn't short but he certainly felt it at times like this, when Harry was forced into a position that made him look bigger, a little hunched but still towering, wild, open. He licked his lips just to see Harry's gaze follow his tongue hungrily.

"Are you sure the compound is clear?" Harry asked. Eggsy shivered at how low and smoky his tone was after so little provocation.

"I fucked 'em up for you, don't worry." Eggsy replied.

Eggsy set his hand flat against Harry's chest, so his fingertips rested against his collarbone. Harry's breath stuttered over Eggsy's lips, his glassy gaze dark and intent. Eggsy moved bondage up on their list of things to try, since Harry looked like he was about to snap from one fucking touch.

He let his hand trial downwards, splayed his fingers so they bumped over Harry's abs before hooking them into his belt. Then he leaned in and followed the path of his hands with his mouth.

Harry jerked at the first bite, rattling the chains before pulling them taught. They creaked as Eggsy moved down, nipping between his pecs and laving at the tight bud of one nipple. He moved on only when Harry's breathing was sufficiently ragged, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses down to the line of his belt. Eggsy smirked up at Harry, leaned to watch him taste. Harry’s face was curtained by sweat-damp hair, and Eggsy reveled in the deep groan that rumbled out of Harry's throat when he sank his teeth into a defined muscle by his hip. He nosed teasingly at Harry’s waistband, then backtracked they way he'd come. Harry quivered under his teeth, tense and practically begging for the abuse. He sucked marks into Harry's skin, drawing harsh, panting moans on every rough, enthusiastic bite. He ran his hands up Harry's back as he went, feeling his body tense and his muscles shift in captivity.

Harry's arms had pulled so the cuffs were digging into him, flexing every muscle to peak levels of obscene.

"Fuck, yes." Eggsy growled, trailing a hand up to feel the tension beneath his fingers. "You're like a bowstring-"

Harry's dark eyes darted wildly to the door, and that was all the warning Eggsy needed to turn and fire.

His quick reflexes saved them from getting zippered by an automatic rifle, but four more goons in camo were backed up in the corridor waiting to take the place of the first. Eggsy darted forward and jammed the butt of his now-empty pistol into the next one's trachea, satisfied by the give and the wet gurgle the man let out before falling, and headed for the next. One shoved by and before Eggsy had a chance to taze him Harry had snapped the man's neck with thighs, and shit, that was something Eggsy intended to rip from his glasses feed and keep forever. He tazed his goon just in time for the last one to rush him.

There was a crumbling, crashing metal sound and the last man fell when something whipped around and crashed into his head. Eggsy saw it happen up close, watched his face contort as a thick metal shaft rammed into the side of his face hard enough to snap his head to the side and topple him over, dead or unconscious. Eggsy looked at what had done the damage, and trailed back along the chain, turning as he did, to see Harry, sweaty and panting, with one arm free.

"Did you just rip a fuckin' bolt out of the wall." Eggsy asked, even though he was staring at said bolt where it was sitting exposed on the floor at the end of the chain still attached to Harry's wrist.

Harry grabbed a fistful of Eggsy's suit at the back and hauled him a hair's breadth from a kiss. "Get us out of here, Eggsy, and I'll show you just what else I can do with my strength."

And well, flying off the handle was the theme of the day anyway, Eggsy decided.

It was a rather flashy escape.


	2. Harry/Whiskey Day 5: Humiliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's under constant observation at Statesman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dubcon ahoy. Other tags: masturbation, voyerism, orgasm denial

The thin blankets quivered over the lepidopterist's raised, spread knees. Jack sipped his whiskey, neat so he could feel the burn. On the other side of the glass, the unknown agent trembled, let his plush, bitten lip pop free of his teeth. On the observation side it was dark, Jack’s eyes gleaming with blinking LED lights while he watched the show.

Jack turned the volume up so the room was flooded with harsh, ragged breathing and slick sounds that would have otherwise been soft, quiet, private. He let himself imagine what was happening under the white blanket. Harry's powerful hand around his uncut cock, stripping up and down carefully so the lewd, wet slaps weren't loud enough to draw attention. His other hand probing at his entrance, fingers teasing, slipping inside.

Harry gasped as he pictured it, wide digits spearing furled muscle. One arm moved rhythmically under the blanket, slowing as he shifted to bring his other hand lower, sink deeper.

Jack palmed himself through his jeans, a buzz in his blood from more than the alcohol. He wondered how this repressed young man in an aging body had discovered how to take his own fingers, if it was the product of trial and error or if someone had taught him.

Harry jerked and at last, at last broke his silence on a small whine, deafening in the observation room but no doubt hushed to Harry’s ears. He arched back, picking up the pace again on his dick. The blanket shook now with more than just his deliberate movements as his knees quaked under the strain of his own touch.

Jack took another sip of finely aged whiskey.

What he wouldn't give for a better view.

Harry sounded desperate now, tossed his head back on the pillow as his breathing reached a crescendo with the speed of his hands, skirting the edge.

That wouldn't do.

Smirking, Jack depressed the little red intercom button and watched Harry's glassy eyes snap open in a panic.

"Mister Hart," he said, his voice stern, "just what do you think you're doing in there?"

Jack propped his chin in his hand with a lazy smile as Harry paled and shot upright, bunching the blanket in front of him as a shield and oh, his pants were around his ankles, too. What a lewd image he'd make without that innocent white cotton, but what a pure and wholesome one he made with it. Jack wasn't sure which he wanted to see more of.

Harry's skin shined with sweat, his unevenly cut hair sticking up at the back and clinging to his forehead at the front. Jack licked his lips to chase the taste of alcohol there.

Harry's ragged breathing was louder now, gasping over the intercom at full volume. His cheeks were bright with color, so if Jack were to touch them he was sure he'd feel the burn.

"I-" Harry began, and Jack's smile became a grin. So demurely embarrassed, so ashamed. He could just eat Harry Hart right up. It was a wonder the Brits still had a country if this was their best. If anything, seeing Harry on the battlefield would goad him into bolder stunts.

Then Harry's brow furrowed, agitated, no doubt frustrated with how late he'd been interrupted. "Well, what do you expect me to do?" he snapped.

Jack pursed his lips, finished his whiskey. Then he pressed the intercom again. "How old do you think you are, Mr. Hart?"

Frowning, Harry replied. "Nineteen."

Jack put his glass away and reached for his belt with one hand. He'd decided which picture of Harry he wanted burned into his mind.

With his free hand he depressed the button again, and unlocked the door while he was at it. "I can think of a few ideas."


	3. Harry/Eggsy Day 6: Size Difference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Crack, chair sex, bottom Harry, "size" difference, spoiler: it's about cocks, did I mention crack?, Hinted Merhartwin

"I ain't even short! I'm of average height!"

Harry shoved him down into the office chair, and Eggsy went because he was too angry to care where he ranted from.

"Maybe I'll make fun of the other agents for being tall. Fuckin' giants, the lot of 'em. I tell you, Harry," he said to Harry, who was stripping off his shirt for some reason.

Eggsy wasn't even sure what he was saying any more, he was so angry. So what if he was the shortest male agent by four inches, there was no reason for it to be the topic of conversation for fifteen minutes at the meeting. God. Insufferable pricks, all of them. Harry's pants were gone, which, ok, odd, but more importantly _that bastard Percival_.

He was maybe still a little off his game from his bullshit mission in Caracas, whatever.

Whatever the hell Harry was doing with his belt set off a quiet warning bell in his head. He kept yelling in case it resolved itself.

"I've got massive feet, I'll find their shoe sizes and then I'll show them _what the fuck_ -"

Harry was suddenly in his goddamn lap, all stark naked six-foot two of him, slicking Eggsy's cock and _oh god_.

He gripped Harry's hips desperately as he sank down, tight and twitching around Eggsy's cock, blissfully hot and just fucking _perfect_. Harry tipped his head back as Eggsy eased in, bracing himself on the desk, one long line of pale, flushed skin and toned muscle, lips parted in ecstasy.

"Fuck," Eggsy managed, voice strangled, once their hips met. "Harry."

Eggsy's vision swam as he tried to cope with his abrupt change in mood. Harry's bare skin demanded his attention, and he had every intention of giving it - right as soon as he gathered it back up. Eggsy slid his hands down to grip Harry's legs, spread over his lap, tense and powerful.

Harry got his bearings first. Big hands framed Eggsy's face as Harry curled over him.  "I have slept with every active agent with a penis, Eggsy." His eyelashes fluttered while his wet lips formed the words, and Eggsy was enraptured. "You may not be the tallest, but I assure you, you're the victor in much more important areas of _size_." He punctuated the last with a demanding grind and Eggsy almost whited out.

"That shouldn't be hot, why is that hot, fuck, Harry you're such a goddamn slut-"

Harry shivered and moaned in Eggsy's lap and Eggsy's hips twitched when Harry spasmed around his dick. Harry tucked his face into Eggsy's neck while, finally, Eggsy got with the program.

"Good?" He asked.

Harry responded by biting his neck, and fuck had his day just done sharp one-eighty.

 

He had resolved to be quietly smug to annoy and confuse the rest of the agents the next day, but of course Merlin ruined it before nine at his next briefing.

"You'll be a bit," Merlin's lips pointedly didn't slant. " _Short_ on extra time."

High road, Eggsy reminded himself.

"Fuck you, Merlin. I have it on good authority I'm big enough where it counts." Welp, that had come out by accident. Eggsy bit his lip when Merlin stopped typing to look at him.

"Harry's authority?"

Eggsy coughed.

"What were his exact words?"

Eggsy was definitely blushing. Merlin was doing a bad job and feigning disinterest. "That of all the people at the table yesterday, I win."

"Did he say that, or was the word _agents_ dropped somewhere?"

"I-" Eggsy's eyes narrowed. "Why."

Merlin swiveled back to his screens, light reflecting off his glasses so Eggsy couldn't see his eyes, but doing nothing to mask his smirk. "No reason."

"Merlin what the fuck. He's my boyfriend!"

"It was before you were born," Merlin quipped. "You didn't seem to mind when it was eleven of the twelve active agents."

"That's different!"

"Out, Eggsy, I have things to do."

"No. I need to see it."

Merlin pivoted in his chair and took a sip of his coffee, never taking his eyes off Eggsy, like he was waiting for him to think about what he'd just said. Eggsy did. He flushed redder, but he stood by it.

"You need to see my _erect penis_."

"Jesus, why can't you both just say dick or cock or something-"

"Eggsy," Merlin interrupted. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't lock you in a room with every shred of sensitivity training I can dredge up from every major corporation in the world.”

Eggsy had one, but he wasn't proud of it. "Because you started it!"

One eyebrow raised.

"In the meeting! None of this would be a problem if you hadn't gone and commented on _always forgetting to write the five_ or whatever!"

Eggsy stood red-faced and manic before Merlin, slowly connecting that he was maybe being a complete nutter about this. Then Merlin sighed. He set his coffee on his desk and rubbed a hand over his forehead.

"Fine."

Eggsy blinked. "Fine?"

"Fine." Merlin repeated. He reached for his trousers.

Eggsy took a quick step back. Be careful what you wish for, his mum always used to say. Why hadn't he _listened_.

"Um, wait. Harry."

Merlin tapped a few buttons on his keyboard and Harry's voice filtered out a moment later.

"Merlin?"

"Your boy is asking to see my - " he cast Eggsy a pointed stare. "Cock."

"Oh, marvelous, it must be my birthday. I'll be right there."

" _What_."

Merlin hung up the line and shrugged. "You've unleashed a monster, I hope you know."

"But it's _your fault again_!"

"You did fall for it."

"I-" the world flickered as Eggsy blinked, hoping that at some point it might not be so damn irritating. "You _wanker_."

"Impatient."

"Fucking - fine, you know what." He slouched into a chair to wait and steadfastly didn't pout. Much.

Merlin smiled. "There's a good lad."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just going to admit that I ship Merhartwin really hard now.


	4. Harry/Eggsy Day 10: Gun Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: references to torture, aftermath of torture, Harry pretends he's being raped for their cover, not sure how to tag for that, undercover Eggsy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I basically woke up and found this typed on my computer. I'm gonna catch up if it kills me.

"Alright mister Wyndham."

"That's duke Wyndham to you."

Eggsy's smile is all teeth and no humor.

Harry already has a split lip and some nasty dark bruising on his ribs, but it's the rope burn on his wrists where they're tied to the chair that make Eggsy's chest go tight. Harry only fights when he's really in pain, seeking some he can control to ground himself.

Eggsy makes a show of checking the bullets in his gun. He lets the whole clip slide out, holds it so the camera can't see that it's empty save the blank, but Harry can. Then he clicks it back in and drags his chair over. Eggsy sits so the seat of Harry's chair between his restrained legs digs into his knees.

"I hear you've been tight-lipped about how, exactly, you found out about our little operation."

Blown his cover like Pearl Harbor, actually, with all the terrible consequences that entailed. Eggsy's just glad he got back to the base in time to discover Harry locked in the organization's dungeon rather than at the bottom of the ocean.

He draws the barrel of the gun across Harry's lips, the closest thing to a kiss he'll get.

"You see, mister Wyndham," he says, hooking his hands over Harry's spread thighs and dragging him forward, tilting his hips and forcing his legs wide. This way Eggsy blocks the camera's view, but Harry flinches as the change in position jars his battered body, and Eggsy grits his teeth. He's going to _ruin_ these people. He leans close, fishing out a knife to slash a neat hole in Harry's pants. "I'm the one they call when they want _results_."

Eggsy lets the gun clack against the chair so the guards watching will hear it and whispers, "Act like I'm hurting you."

Eggsy sets the gun down and makes an unmistakable movement with his arm.

Harry puts on a very convincing show, jolting on a broken cry that breaks Eggsy's heart even though he knows damn well Harry's faking. Harry squirms, and the wheezing breaths are real, at least, when he moves too much and fractured ribs protest.

Eggsy sways closer, nothing the guards will care about all that much, and accidentally nudges the cold gun to Harry's leg.

Harry jolts for real this time, and the sound he makes isn't entirely unhappy.

"Freak," Eggsy whispers affectionately, then, louder, "tell me the name of your source and I'll stop."

He takes deep, measured breaths when Harry starts to cry. It's fake, it's not Harry at all, and the only thing going on is that Eggsy's given in to his impulses and has taken to running his fingers soothingly along the inside of Harry's thigh, but fuck if he isn't putting on a persuasive performance.

"I can't," Harry says, voice cracking, then "Please, I can't."

"Harry," Eggsy whispers, his own voice actually cracking, and Harry peeks at him from beneath his lashes. He knows it's all over his face, if Harry keeps up Eggsy isn't going to be able to finish the job proper, and he has to if either of them want to make it out alive.

Eggsy's glad the cameras are a little grainy, because Harry can't keep the warmth from shining out of him like sunlight. Some of the color returns to his pale cheeks, like Eggsy's bleeding heart has given him back his strength. He shuts his eyes again a moment later, swallowing hard, then arches on a cry and starts mumbling incoherently. Eggsy leans over and lets the camera see him listen, and reacts grimly as Harry mouths ' _I love you, darling_ ' against his ear.

They make a spectacle of separating, Harry wincing and curling into himself as much as the chair allows, Eggsy lazy and triumphant.

He tilts Harry's chin up with the barrel of the gun, considering. Then he presses it against Harry's plush lips. "Lick it clean," he orders.

Harry's pupils dilate, and if Eggsy wasn't so rattled he was liable to explode he might have appreciated the way the barrel vanishes between Harry's lips, the way he slicks it with his saliva so it gleams. Harry certainly makes a valiant effort.

When the gun pops free Eggsy lets his gaze linger on Harry's face, hoping it won't be the last time, but knowing it will be the last time for a while. "Good boy."

Eggsy pulls the trigger.

Harry deserves a BAFTA. But, Eggsy supposes, he does know what it's like to be shot in the head.

 

"Galahad," Harry greets when he climbs off the jet, three months and some colorful explosions later. "Welcome home."

Eggsy steps up into the circle of his arms and buries his face in the crook of Harry's neck, hanging on for dear life. "Glad to be here, Galahad."


	5. Harry/Eggsy/Merlin Day 18: Masturbation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags: very very light Dom/sub undertones, threesome

Eggsy wakes up on the edge of coming, his cock rock solid and bare under the blankets and the house dark and silent around him. He almost whines when the shock of waking keeps him from tipping over the edge, but having a wet dream after a night of rigorous fucking would have been _embarrassing_. He's a little impressed he can get hard this soon at all. A glance over Merlin's broad shoulders at the clock tells him it's one of those hours no sane person is awake, and he flops back down to try and will away his erection.

Two solid minutes of failure later, Eggsy stares at the darkness in accusation. It doesn't help that he's somehow ended up with Harry's pillow, so every breath brings a hint of aftershave and shampoo and Harry.

He gives up, but the logistics of escape are impossible. He's sandwiched between two lovely bodies and both would wake up if he tried to head to the loo. They’re far enough away, however, that they won't notice him shifting, if he's careful. Harry sleeps like the dead and while Merlin is a bit easier to wake, Eggsy is a trained spy and can be quiet when he needs to be.

He wraps his hand around his cock and sighs in relief at the pleasure that sparks along his spine. He wants to rub one out with all the speed and finesse of a fourteen-year-old who'd just discovered porn, but that would be a surefire way to wake the spies in his bed, so he forces himself to build up with slow, hushed strokes. It's almost worse that way, since the pleasure buzzing under his skin makes him want to moan and pant and generally make a racket where the beat of his hand doesn't.

"Insatiable little thing," Harry murmurs, and Eggsy's replying gasp is loud in the quiet room. The pads of Harry's fingers trail up his arm, slow and languid.

"Sorry," Eggsy whispers, freezing. "Didn't mean to wake you."

"Don't stop," Harry instructs, a hint of an order in his voice, and Eggsy shivers and does as he's told. "If anything, you should have woken us sooner."

Eggsy bites down hard on his bottom lip to hold in the whine that threatens to slip from his throat as Harry's hand trails across his chest. His fingertips dance on fresh bites before drawing teasing circles around one nipple. Eggsy shifts as carefully as he can into the touch, aching for more.

The light flicks on and Harry takes that moment to stop teasing and pinch, just shy of too hard, so Eggsy loses his composure and cries out.

"You can't keep your hands off him for five minutes," Merlin mutters.

Harry chuckles into Eggsy's ear, still roughly abusing the tight nub in his grip. "Merlin likes to listen."

"Merlin likes to _sleep_ ," Merlin grumbles, settling against Eggsy's other side.

"He also likes to complain," Harry adds glibly.

Merlin ignores him in favor of tilting Eggsy's head for a kiss. "I believe Harry told you not to stop.”

Eggsy moans in frustration but fists his cock obediently. He's quicker and rougher now, because he can be and because he can't resist with Harry's roaming touch lighting him up. Harry is alternately dragging blunt nails across his skin and finding places to dig them in. He almost doesn’t notice Merlin drawing the blankets back.

"There's a good lad," Merlin murmurs. Eggsy cracks his eyes open to peer at him and finds his gaze locked on Eggsy's leaking cock. Merlin's propped up on his elbow, uncovered and naked, powerful form on full display. He licks his lips as Eggsy watches, and Eggsy is transfixed.

Harry switches to the other nipple, pinching and snapping Eggsy into an arch. He drops his eyes to watch Harry's offending digits trail innocently along his sternum. Harry's pressed too close to look at, his solid, muscular body a hot line along Eggsy's side, one arm under Eggsy’s head as he noses behind Eggsy's ear, along his hairline. He brushes a kiss against Eggsy's jaw and Eggsy shivers.

While he's distracted, tension building in his gut, Merlin's soft palm soothes down over his abs. Eggsy's heart jumps into his throat, but he skirts past Eggsy's cock at the last second. Eggsy almost whines until he feels Merlin's broad hand nudging his legs apart.

Eggsy spreads his thighs eagerly, shivering as the cooler air hits sensitive, heated skin. He does moan when Merlin's sure fingers drag down his thigh and keep on, sliding back behind his balls to press where he's still slick and open from earlier, teasing but not giving an inch besides.

"Please," Eggsy murmurs.

"I have half a mind to tie your hands and leave you like this, just for waking me," Merlin's lips ghost against his ear as he speaks, sending a vicious shiver down Eggsy's spine. "But I suppose that would only make you worse, spoiled thing."

With that he pushes two fingers in to the knuckle. Eggsy cries out and throws his head back, working himself faster and more desperately as Merlin trails his thumb around his stretched rim, as if considering adding it, too.

"Gorgeous," Harry's palm settles on his neck, light but hot like a brand. "If I were twenty years younger I'd fuck this lovely throat of yours until I was certain you'd sleep until morning."

Merlin rubs handler-soft fingertips over his prostate and Eggsy keens, heedless of the obscene sounds from his indelicate stroking filling the air.

"A more realistic solution to the problem," Merlin drawls, but it's a filthy, filthy drawl, "we fill this insatiable arse of yours with something that runs on batteries. After we're through with you ourselves, of course."

"I knew there was a reason I let you come up with the ideas," Harry replies, his voice rumbling in his chest and into Eggsy's arm. "Would you like that, darling? To be kept plugged and full of our come until morning?"

"Please," Eggsy mewls, and he knows he sounds goddamn pitiful but he's too hazy to care. He's half begging for release, and half for that wonderful suggestion to come true ASAP. Harry smiles against his neck, no doubt catching both meanings. His hand finds its way between Eggsy's legs, feeling where Merlin is fucking him on his obscenely long fingers.

"Merlin is incredibly dexterous. But I might say a bit too gentle," Harry purrs, and Eggsy whites out as his wider fingers join Merlin's, buried deep inside him.

He comes around gasping a moment later, Merlin cleaning him up with a spare pocket square Harry had carelessly left on the nightstand.

Harry tucks him close while Merlin shuts off the lights again and settles down. "Tomorrow you'll sleep the whole night through," Harry promises, dark and sugar-sweet.


	6. Eggsy/Merlin Day 29: Overstimulation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags: toys, hacking, dub-con (in that a vibrator is hijacked)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, it happened. Never thought I'd write straight Merwin, but here we are in 2017 and I'm still 90% more likely to ship a character with everyone if they're dead in cannon.  
> Anyway I saw an article about Bluetooth vibrators getting hacked and this was inevitable really.

Arthur's droning voice seems to be stuck on dishwasher hum, a single note that berates his ears endlessly. Cruel and unusual punishment, that's what it is. The next time he wants to get a bad guy to talk he's setting them in front of the new Arthur for a yearly meeting.

Roughly thirty others in the room are doing marvelous impressions of people who are listening. Eggsy would listen, really, it's important stuff. Except he's read it already, a bunch of times, and half the review is about _his missions_ and it's a little hard to pay rapt attention to the summary when he can still describe the whites of the henchmen's eyes. Even Merlin - or especially Merlin, being author of the annual report and thereby familiar with every detail - has a vacant look to him. Eggsy can't even text with his glasses since everyone in the room will know he's doing it.

So he sits, and he listens, and he fidgets idly with a loose thread in the arm of his chair, and his watch informs him it's been fifteen seconds.

He's so mind numbingly bored when the plug in his arse starts to buzz that he jolts so hard he nearly tips the table over.

The interruption draws every eye in the room because all of them are almost as bored as him. Or as bored as he _was,_ he amends, waving them off with what he hopes looks like a sheepish smile and not the look of a man attending a company meeting with a rogue vibrator.

Most of them are used to his antics and turn back to Arthur, eager for the meeting to conclude. Merlin sighs at him, which is uncalled for, and returns to his privileged position of being able to play Candy Crush on his tablet without drawing eyes.

Harry leans over, placing a hand on his arm and murmuring under Arthur's determined drone. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah," Eggsy whispers. He hasn't got a lot of faith in his voice just then, and Harry's too damn clever not to see his lie for exactly what it is - a lie. But all he does is squeeze Eggsy's arm and cast an exasperated glance at Arthur, then give Eggsy a consoling one. He draws away, content that Eggsy isn't dying.

Eggsy's sweating bullets through the whole wonderful exchange because he's not sure how loud the vibration is to someone not also feeling it gently torment their prostate.

He fingers the hard edge of his phone in his pocket, finding it still there and innocent, which is just great. At quite possibly the worst moment available, his sex toy has decided to _malfunction_.

His only solace is that the closest people to him are Roxy and Harry, and both of them will laugh themselves sick if he's forced to tell them what went down at Arthur’s meeting. He shifts, trying to move so the toy isn't shoving down into the chair and, by extension, as deep as it can into him. His plan is shit, though, because the lack of pressure makes the sound worse _._ The whole enterprise ends with the protruding bit lodged perfectly over his perineum and him making strangled hasty apologies about his phone not being on silent.

At the very least, he has the table to hide the obvious bulge growing in his pants.

He slouches down in his chair a bit, earning looks from a few people he ignores and one from Harry to which he looks as innocent as he possibly can as an unwitting exhibitionist. Roxy's long since given up on him and is ignoring him so pointedly he might be hurt if he wasn't so grateful.

He just _had_ to wear his favorite. It just _had_ to wait until the meeting. He steadily loses the battle with the flush fighting its way to his cheeks, and only by force of will does he manage not to pant. He can estimate the thread count of his pants from how hard his cock is jamming into them when Arthur finally, an age later, drawls out the closing statements.

"And that concludes the Kingsman annual report. An admiral job, ladies and gentlemen, and to another year of success." Arthur raises his glass and everyone else echoes his toast. Eggsy's parched throat welcomes even the brandy as a distraction, the glass held in heated, sweaty hands as he drinks.

The moment the doors open he races to the nearest bathroom, locks the door, and shoves his trousers and pants down around his knees.

Fisting his cock, he wonders at his own priorities, and promptly tosses the thought aside in the interest of tossing off. He's been brought to the brink in front of his boss and everyone, and he's damn well getting an orgasm out of it.

The toy continues on its merry malfunctioning way, ratcheting up in intensity until his toes are curling in his gleaming oxfords. The bathroom fills with the sounds his gasps and the wet slap of his fist, a soft hum under them from the vibration inside him.

Eggsy's hand flies up to grip the top of the stall door, arching into the speeding pump of his hand. He catches sight of himself in the mirror, all trussed up like a posh spy, glasses askew with his hand on his cock and his cheeks scarlet. Wrecked. That's the word. The vibrator hits its highest setting and he comes biting his lip to muffle the sound, coating his fingers and splashing the floor with streaks of come.

He clenches around the relentless shake in his arse, whining - and it shuts off. Eggsy blinks at himself in the mirror. Correction - Eggsy blinks at himself _and Merlin_.

His glasses flicker to life, Merlin appearing in the corner looking too entertained to be innocent.

"Galahad," he greets. "You may want to consider turning off your glasses at times. And," his eyes make a pointed sweep downwards. "take better precautions with your Bluetooth devices."

Eggsy laughs. It's wrung out and a bit hysterical, because of course, _of course_ Merlin hacked his plug. Harry was right, leaving the man alone too long was a high-risk situation, but _bored_ was leagues worse. "Got any tips on that, gov?"

"I might be able to drum up something with a little more protection."

"Takes a bit of the fun out, don't you think?"

He sees Merlin reach for his tablet and even though he knows it's coming, his knees buckle at the powerful flash of vibration. He squirms as his oversensitive hole protests, digging his fingers into his thigh and trying to decide whether he wants it to stop or not. Merlin's still watching him, idly winding the vibration up another few notches. Eggsy whines in protest and the toy shuts off again, which is almost worse.

"Fuck you," he says without heat, flicking some of the come from his fingers onto the mirror. Merlin frowns at the mess in disapproval.

"Clean that up and come down to the lab," he says, leaning back. "Seems you're due for a debriefing."

The little Merlin icon minimizes, but Eggsy knows he's still there. He grins and tips his head against the stall. "You have _got_ to work on your jokes, mate."


	7. Harry/Eggsy Day 16: Wax Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: light bondage, wax play, modeling

Another band of wax seared a path down a divot between his ribs, wonderfully just shy of burning. He hissed, more of a sigh really, while the liquid cooled and hardened against his skin. His muscles were already loose and tender, a product of passing time. How much he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he was painted in technicolor fire like the cement under a bridge, and all his semi needed was a whisper of friction to go full-mast.

Eggsy hadn't expected to pick up a new kink that day, but that was what happened. The man behind the fire might have helped things along.

Harry Hart, photographer, was the kind of person Eggsy'd expect to find in front of a camera rather than behind it. He looked sculpted - not from wax, like Eggsy did now, but something smoother and stronger, something better at holding its impeccability. A living Michelangelo; pale, polished marble.

He still looked like that even with his white shirt unbuttoned and his hair tousled from too much handling. Harry's own handling, unfortunately, though watching him had given Eggsy plenty to think about while he was strapped down and unable to do much else.

Apparently he worked better that way. Eggsy wasn't going to argue.

"Perfect," Harry proclaimed, setting the yellow candle back with the others. He slid off the bed and took his intoxicating scent with him, leaving Eggsy cooling and sated and feeling like he'd come without the orgasm. Eggsy tugged at the padded leather holding his wrists out by the edges of the bed.

Then Harry was back, flitting about with his camera and taking shots of the artwork he'd made in wax on Eggsy's chest.

Eggsy'd sort of forgotten this part over the last age or so he'd spent laying at Harry's mercy. Photography, work, money, all that good stuff. He'd probably forgotten once Harry's suit jacket had come off and he'd rolled up his cuffs. The modeling ad hadn’t done anything to prepare him for Harry Hart.

"Hm?" Eggsy asked when he realized Harry'd spoken.

"Would you mind if I kept your face in the frame?" Harry repeated, smiling a bit through his earnesty. Eggsy figured he must have looked the way he felt, relaxed and a little disconnected. "It's your eyes. They make a rather lovely addition to the color."

A bit of the excess heat in Eggsy's skin pooled in his cheeks, but only a bit. Harry sounded so matter-of-fact and Eggsy was so relaxed that the compliment managed to shoot straight through his usual bluster and settle in his chest, warm as another stream of melted wax.

"Yeah, go ahead," he agreed. He almost closed his eyes again until he remembered what Harry’d wanted his face for.

Harry raised his camera again, adjusting some of the million little knobs this way and that. "I'll ask you again before I send them anywhere," he said, a smile in his voice. "Just to be sure."

Eggsy hummed, thoroughly distracted by Harry’s long, sure fingers. Harry crouched beside him, taking another few shots from different angles, then set the camera aside.

"You've been a wonderful subject, Eggsy." He folded his fingers together, looking at Eggsy with the sort of abiding brown eyes people went missing in. His shirt hung open to the fifth button, showing a good deal of his chest, and Eggsy was feeling good so he went for it.

"Any chance I can get a happy ending out of this?"

Harry laughed good-naturedly. It was a quiet thing and a lovely sight, and if Eggsy were in a more guarded mood he might have worried at the way it struck him. But he wasn't, so he grinned while Harry slid back up to sit on the bed.

"If I recall correctly, Mister Unwin, you made me promise repeatedly not to 'try anything funny' in your correspondence."

"Ad didn't say you wasn't a creep."

"Of course not. Only a creep would write such a thing."

"Also didn't say I'd be meeting the fittest photographer in London, now did it?" Eggsy hitched himself up as much as he could, bound as he was, transferring his weight to one elbow and straining against the opposite cuff to lean closer. "Come on Harry," he smirked. "you can't really say you don't like what you see."

An indulgent smile was playing about on Harry's lips as he leaned down. Eggsy wondered how much he could get those lips to do, wearing that smile. Harry stopped a breath away, hovering, and Eggsy's eyelids drooped.

Then his left arm came free of its restraint and he almost fell off the bed.

"Oi!" Eggsy huffed, pouting. Harry bit back a broader smile and undid the other cuffs.

"We'll see how you feel after I clean you up," he said, reaching for the nightstand.

"Yeah? How you planin' to do tha-" A silver knife caught in one of the studio lights and Eggsy's cock twitched. "Fuck."

Harry paused. "I can use something else."

" _Fuck_ no. Just make it quick, yeah? Or the next lovely color addition'll be the blue of my bollocks."

Harry chuckled darkly, twirling the knife in his grip. "I'll keep that in mind."


End file.
